


A Heart that Beats so Slow

by MxrBoneless



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Bruce saves Thor from attempted regicide by stepping in, Dom Bruce Banner, He tries but he doesn’t know what he’s doing, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Null Thor, So far just hints to dubious Gandmaster/Loki, Sub Loki (Marvel), Thor is a Good Bro (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-23 10:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxrBoneless/pseuds/MxrBoneless
Summary: Thor’s movement pulls an angry snarl from Loki who stabs the tip of a dagger pulled from thin air into Thor’s thigh. There’s a slightly wild look to his eyes that comes only when a sub has been allowed to linger on the edges of sub space for too long without fully sinking down.It pulls a soothing croon from Bruce’s chest before he can stop himself, startling all three of them. He can’t quite bring himself to regret it though when it lets Loki sink down just a little further.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Thor, Bruce Banner/Loki, Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce hadn’t intended to trespass on the scene, he’d simply been looking for a quiet place to center himself. There were quite a few pleasure rooms towards the center of the ship that no one quite had the stomach to live in. He’d taken to escaping to these rooms whenever he felt the other guy trying to take the reins.

It would appear so had Thor and Loki. Thor is sitting on one of the couches speaking quietly to his brother. Loki is kneeling on a cushion with his head resting against Thor’s thigh, looking seconds away from stabbing.

Thor cups the back of Loki’s neck protectively. “Hello, Banner. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Was just... ah, well. I was avoiding the crowds if we’re honest.” Bruce shuffles to the end of the couch at Thor’s cajoling but feels awkward about it. “I can find somewhere else. I didn’t realize you were scening.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do, brother?” Loki snaps, but his ire seems directed entirely towards Thor. The younger god seems more on edge than he’s appeared since the battle. “Wasn’t your mortal a submissive? How did you manage to get her down with all this blathering on theories you barely understood when you learned them three centuries ago?”

“Jane enjoyed explaining her theories to me.” Thor doesn’t rise to the bait, but he seems equally frantic as he strokes through Loki’s hair. He turns to Bruce with a desperate expression. “No. Don’t leave, Banner.”

“Sorry.” Bruce jerks his gaze away to the floor. “It might be best if I come back.”

“Nonsense. You’re family now. Loki doesn’t mind your presence.” Thor shifts to examine him more closely. “Are you well?”

Thor’s movement pulls an angry snarl from Loki who stabs the tip of a dagger pulled from thin air into Thor’s thigh. There’s a slightly wild look to his eyes that comes only when a sub has been allowed to linger on the edges of sub space for too long without fully sinking down.

It pulls a soothing croon from Bruce’s chest before he can stop himself, startling all three of them. He can’t quite bring himself to regret it though when it lets Loki sink down just a little further. Shaking the pleasure at being useful from his bones, Bruce stands fully. “Sorry. Hulk is a sub so I haven’t put anyone down in two years, apparently. It’s, I don’t want to interfere. I can come back once—“

Thor stops Bruce with a hand on his shoulder and shoves him back down into his seat. The god doesn’t react to Bruce’s pained grunt, Loki’s displeased hiss, or the knife digging deeper into his thigh. “No, no. This is perfect. I’m a null and have no clue what I’m doing. Loki, Loki come here, darling. Here we are, brother. Rest your head here, Bruce will take care of you.”

Before he can think to protest, Loki’s head is pressed against his thigh and Thor is guiding Bruce’s hand to stroke through Loki’s hair. It settles the anxiety thrumming under his own skin and Bruce finds himself gently nudging Loki to find a more comfortable spot. The urge to make sure the sub is safe destroys any protest he might have. Guiding a sub without a prior conversation is dangerous, but Loki seems ready to fly apart. “It’s alright. You’re doing well, Loki. Can you, there we go. Just breathe for me. Nice and deep.”

Loki seizes upon the clear direction and praise, sinking almost immediately. His eyelids drop and his gaze turns soft and fuzzy as he nuzzles against the soft leather of Bruce’s borrowed pants.

“Oh.” Bruce startles at the ease with which Loki let go for him, but continues to pet Loki’s hair. “How long did you have him on edge?”

“Too long, I fear.” Thor has turned his attention to the blade in his leg and prods at it. “As I said, I’m a null. It’s quite rare among the Aesir, but I can front well enough to keep most people happy. I’m less skilled with my brother. He says I fuss too much and it grows frustrating for us both.”

“I’d guess you kept him thinking too much.” Bruce pauses to croon softly to Loki, reassuring the prince that he’s doing well. “I didn’t realize he was a sub.”

“If having their crown prince as a null would be enough to disturb Asgard’s people, then revealing Loki to be a submissive would destroy their confidence in Odin’s line altogether.” Thor presses his red cloak to the puncture with a shrug. Since they’d met on the helicarrier, Thor was quick to explain cultural differences but he’d never sounded quite as disapproving of Asgard’s side as he did now. “Mother tended to put him under. I don’t know who he’s allowed the honor since faking his death, as Odin was also a dominant, but I imagine here we are the only ones to know aside from Heimdall. I know them to hate each other enough that a scene between them is near impossible, so I’m unsure if he’s been under since before Sakaar.”

“Your parents were both doms?” Tentatively, Bruce lets his hand drift to stroking the arch of Loki’s back. Two dom relationships happen often enough on Earth, but it’s still relatively rare.

Thor nods. He finally tips his gaze back to Loki with the same hard expression Bruce always sees him considering his brother with. “Aye. Mother was closer to a switch, but aye. Loki submitted for them both in equal measure as needed and it soothed any territorial disputes.”

Bruce hums, giving the sub at his feet more consideration. Based on what little he’d gathered from Asgard’s people, who seem almost to be more Loki’s enemy than anyone else, Loki is thought to be rather skilled at defending the throne through manipulation and sacrifice. Before all of this it would have been hard to imagine Loki submitting easily to anyone, but now Bruce is more worried that Loki is always staving off a drop. The younger god leans into his every touch like it’s precious.

“I am aware that on Midgard such agreements are made between a dominant and submissive,” Thor says with a tone that makes it clear this is one of those cultural differences Bruce will find distasteful, but that Thor himself holds to be necessary, “but as Loki’s head of family it falls to me to make such arrangements. I would ask that you take over Loki’s care as dominant.”

“Loki’s down too deep to give consent.” Bruce hardens his own tone, to the faintest flickering of support from the other guy at the base of his spine. “If he hadn’t already been in distress, I wouldn’t have agreed to even this much without talking first.”

The sub in question gasps as though he was struck and pulls his head from Bruce’s thigh to press a kiss at Bruce’s ankle. The words Loki speak sound nothing like any language Bruce knows, but he’s helped too many subs out of a bad drop to not recognize the gist of what he says.

This is precisely why Bruce refuses to take Loki under contract without a lengthy discussion. There are too many doms out there willing to take advantage of the precious gifts given to them and too many subs left with the scars of such abuse. Without knowing how compatible they are, or if they have conflicting triggers, it’s dangerous to have a scene.

Bruce doesn’t spare Thor even an irritated look. He’s dropping to the floor next to Loki and guiding the man’s head to his shoulder. The pet names come naturally, habit from his time with Betty. “No, no. You’re perfect, treasure. I’m not going to reject you. You’re perfect for me. Such a good sub for me, sweet one. Just breathe for me, that’s so good. Such a good job breathing. Nice and deep.”

By the time he talks Loki down from his panic, Bruce is ready to let the other guy out to throttle Thor. He might not be a sub, but Hulk is and Hulk most certainly doesn’t appreciate watching another sub’s rights taken from them. “You’re right, Thor. That’s something to be talked about between a dom and sub. I’m not going to help you decide Loki’s life for him.”

“Loki was held by the mad titan for at least a year by Asgard’s time before he was spat out on Midgard in the worst drop I’ve seen him in.” Thor’s voice is even and low, but no less angry. “Since then he’s not been allowed a moment to heal as himself and I’ll not stand aside and watch him tear his mind back to shreds. If he’ll not take a dominant for himself then I will chose one I know to be trustworthy. You may both hate me, but I won’t lose him a third time.”

“Then tomorrow we can talk to him about it and I can talk to him alone.” Even though sympathy has his heart skipping a beat with fear, Bruce refuses to be persuaded into taking away Loki’s agency. He firmly doubts Loki would honor a contract made without his consent, but he doesn’t bother to voice the opinion. He’s unwilling to put Loki in that position in the first place.

In his arms, Loki shifts slightly with a languid hum. He doesn’t seem quite aware of what’s being said, but he appears to know that they’re talking about him. The god of mischief is always beautiful in a manner that balances on the edge of unsettling—a conflicting balance of sharp and softly feminine—but now he looks more run down than anything else.

“I need you to check in with me, Loki.” Bruce decides to simply abandon his conversation with Thor. “How do you feel?”

Loki hides his face against Bruce’s shoulder with a sharp whine. It’s not a distressed whine though, maybe more frustrated?

Bruce strokes back Loki’s hair from his face so it won’t pull from being stuck between them and simplifies his question. “Do you feel safe?”

That draws an annoyed snarl from the sub in question, but Loki nods with a vaguely Nordic reply.

After a reassurance from Thor that it meant yes, Bruce asks his next question. “Alright. Good, good. I know you want to drift, but I need to make sure you’re alright. Are you comfortable?”

This gets him a hesitation. Loki’s hand fists in Bruce’s shirt, opening and closing as he struggles to surface enough to answer. Bruce remains patient and is rewarded with an answer when Loki hesitantly shakes his head and gives a different, but equally Nordic, answer.

Language barrier is now high on Bruce’s list of strong objections to taking Loki’s contract. Thor is incredibly lucky that Loki seems to understand him.

“That’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” Bruce runs his hand over Loki’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m very happy you told me. Do you want to lay down?”

That gets him an enthusiastic repetition of Loki’s first answer as the god promptly squirms to drop his head onto Bruce’s lap. Loki immediately grabs Bruce’s hand and puts it back on his head.

“Thank you for telling me.” Bruce chuckles and runs his fingers through Loki’s hair once more. The long black locks are incredibly soft beneath his hand, despite their constant slicked back appearance giving the expectation of tacky strands. “Do you like having your hair played with?”

Loki gives pleased hum as he presses his head up into Bruce’s palm that Bruce takes as a yes. He’s careful, but there are no snarls to avoid which makes his job easier. Bruce might not have the most practice, but he manages a passable job at three braids across Loki’s temple. By the time he’s ready to do the other side, Loki is nearly asleep. Bruce works the other side to match and is rewarded with a soft snore.

“I can take him to his bed.” Thor offers, speaking for the first time in a half hour. He doesn’t mention the contract again and Bruce is thankful for that at least.

“I don’t want to leave him alone until I’m sure he’s up” Bruce says. The idea of letting a sub out of his sight when they might wake still down makes him nauseous. “Help me get him onto the bed and I’ll stay until I’m sure he’s safe.”

“Thank you, Banner. I am glad to see one of your PhDs is so useful.” Thor claps him on the shoulder with a carefully bland smile that always makes Bruce suspicious that Thor is making fun of him. Then Thor lifts Loki up into his arms with an ease that makes it obvious this is somewhat of a routine for them.

It hits Bruce then. This might be routine. The past decade of separation between the brothers has been, well, a decade. But a decade is nothing next to a lifetime of thousands of years. It might as well be a bad year of quarrels for them.

Bruce makes his way to the bed as Thor tucks Loki in and then presses his forehead against his younger brother’s. “I used to be sent to retrieve him from the library near every night. He would become so absorbed in whatever research caught his attention that he would fall asleep in this one chair in the back corner and I’d have to carry him all the way across the palace to his halls in the family wing.”

Bruce doesn’t quite know what to say to that so he takes up position at the edge of the bed. “I’ll keep watch and the other guy promises to defend him if needed.”

“Thank you, Banner.” Thor grips the back of his neck and pulls a Bruce in close enough to bang their foreheads against each other. It’s a display of affection he's only see Thor share with Loki. “I meant it earlier. You’re as much family to me as Loki.”

Awkwardly, Bruce attempts to mirror Thor’s hold. As he does, something traitorous in his chest warms and turns gooey. Single child to a single dad, Bruce didn’t have a lot of family. Less now that his dad has passed. “Yeah, you’re, thanks. Have fun at the council meeting.”

“If i listen to one more suggestion of another culling to reserve supplies, I will toss the offender out of the air lock.” Thor pulls back with a grimace. He heads back to the couch and retrieves his cloak, the blood stains near invisible on the red fabric. “They have been lucky thus far that Loki has seen fit to hold me back.”

That was another change Bruce had never expected. When Loki invaded Earth, Bruce would have laughed until the other guy came out in self preservation at the idea that Loki was Thor’s voice of reason. After three weeks of attending council meetings with the brothers, Bruce would go so far as to say Loki spent a lot of time as Asgard’s sole voice of reason.

It was only slightly a terrifying thought.

“Let Valkyrie throw them out and then you won’t have to listen to Loki’s scolding.” Bruce suggests, stretching his legs out in front of him. It feels weird, but there’s still the sense of satisfaction thrumming under his skin from a good scene keeping it from being too awkward.

Thor laughs quietly and slips on his new eyepatch. “Aye. If that’s not a solution worthy of my brother, I’m not sure there is one. I’ll be back after the meeting to be sure he’s alright. Thank you, Banner.”

“I—“ Bruce swallows hard and glances down at Loki. “It’s alright. We’ll be here when you get back.”


	2. Chapter 2

Loki wakes feeling more settled in his skin than he has in years. He’s not quite up yet, his surroundings fuzzy except for the weight of a hand on his head and the tight pull of braids. Deep satisfaction leaves him loose limbed and sated. A casual scan of his body even reveals that for once he doesn’t have the uncomfortable ache of having been used more carnally once he was down.

It’s almost too good to be true.

“Are you up?” There’s an anxious edge to the question, but the subtle command woven within is luxuriating.

Instead of responding, Loki throws one arm over his companion’s lap and hums. Too soon the scene will be over and Loki will be forced back up to receive whatever pay or favor his current dominant is willing to give for his services. For now he can pretend that this is within contract—that he’s not forced to disguise himself as a Jotun whore to keep his mind at the edge of settled. It’s that thought that brings him up enough to realize this is probably one of the Grandmaster’s favorites being allowed a taste of The Original’s collection.

It’s an unpleasant thought, even if he did allow himself to become collected in order to avoid being taken on the arena floor the second everyone realized how easy it is to make Asgard’s least favorite prince drop. And if he had to belong to one of The Elders of the Universe, En Dwi Gast was hardly the worst of the lot. 

“Shhh, no need to make that face.” The very large, very warm, hand strokes down Loki’s shoulder and he could purr from the pleasure of it. “You were very good for me, but now we need to talk and I think that it’d be best if your brother wasn’t present for it.”

“Most talks are better off without Thor’s presence.” Loki grumbles and doesn't quite let himself be brought back fully. Grandmaster has been inappropriately interested in watching Thor bring Loki into sub space and Loki is not nearly drunk enough to think about how to avoid it. Come to think of it, he doesn’t feel drunk at all.

“He has his good points.” The dominant says and sounds like he unfortunately believes it. There’s the slow burn of anger beneath the soft coaxing though, and Loki feels entirely too good to be forced into damage control on his brother’s behalf upon coming back up. “Or so I keep telling myself.”

Loki keeps his eyes shut and focuses on the warmth of leather underneath his cheek. Maybe if he ignores the dominant’s insistent tug upwards, he can stay like this. “Mmm.”

“I know.” The dominant sounds almost like he does know—like he understands how unpleasant it is to leave the soft drifting place to come back to a world that forces him to always be scheming. “I know, but this is important darling. Can you look at me?”

Loki can’t managed words yet, silver tongue still lead in his mouth, so he whines unhappily. His dominant was so wonderful before and now he’s being incredibly mean. Loki doesn’t want to wake up and go back to tolerating the Grandmaster’s sharp pinches and lingering caresses. But even though being good is an impossible task for him, Loki can’t stifle the desperate need to try and so he blinks heavily before tipping his face up.

He wasn’t expecting this very nice lap to belong to Banner.

The Grandmaster favors Hulk almost more than anyone else on the planet, but as far as Loki knows he’s completely unaware of Banner. And even if he was aware, Grandmaster never puts two submissives together without enjoying being worshipped between them. It tugs at something worried in Loki’s subconscious as he fumbles up on one arm to scan for Sakaar’s creator.

“Shh. It’s alright.” Banner steadies Loki so he can sit up and then presses a glass of water into Loki’s free hand. “It’s just us. Can you take a sip of water for me? Good. That’s good. Focus on it for me. Can you let it ground you?”

Loki lets the ice water sit in his mouth and shuts his eyes to focus on the chill. Banner is more skilled than most submissives at bringing someone up. He swallows and lifts his gaze to search the mortal for any evidence of mistreatment. Thankfully he doesn’t see any, but mortal’s are fragile and he’s not quite up enough to be certain he’s not missing something. “We... he let us keep our clothes.”

“Who are you looking for?” Bruce’s expression tightens and Loki feels sick at not even knowing what he’d done to displease the mortal.

Loki swallows and tries to settle the anxiety pulling his shoulders up to his ears. Even with his mind running wild with panic, Loki still feels so good and that never bodes well for his submissive partners. En Dwi Gast is not a gentle lover. “Grandmaster. He... This is his favorite room. I’m sorry. Did he hurt you? I... I don’t remember. What did he give us?”

“I’m going to let the other guy throttle Thor.” Banner snarls under his breath and the statement doesn’t make sense, but the mortal clasps the back of Loki’s neck and it helps him to settle. “No, no. Shh, we’re not on Sakaar. It’s alright. You’re doing so well, focus on my voice okay? Can you let it bring you back up?”

“I...” Loki lets Banner pull his head down to the mortal’s shoulder as he tries to pull together his fractured memories. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry.” Banner croons softly and rubs Loki’s back. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t prepared to scene with me. Do you remember Thor trying to put you down last night?”

“Mmm. I stabbed him.” Relief has Loki sagging against Banner. The Grandmaster wasn’t involved, Loki is safe from that threat. “He wouldn’t shut up.”

“I won’t argue that he doesn’t deserve it.” Banner’s voice is dark with anger, but it isn’t directed at Loki. “Do you feel better now?”

Loki nods and risks letting his forehead stay tucked against Banner’s neck. He’s up fully now, and incredibly embarrassed by his sheer neediness for affection, but the soft afterglow of a good scene has him staying relaxed against the dominant that cared for him. “I apologize. Thor shouldn’t have pawned me off onto you, regardless of our dynamics.”

“Thor shouldn’t have done what he did last night.” Banner agrees, choosing his words with obvious care. The mortal is always so awkward, never quite sure of his welcome. This decisive anger outside of his second form is refreshing. “I enjoyed our scene though, was it good for you?”

“Good. I still feel drunk on it.” Loki agrees, letting his eyes drift shut. A Jotun has his pride, but Loki has always been shameless about his hedonism. Any reservations he’d still held before he landed on Sakaar had been stripped away by the Grandmaster.

Banner strokes back a few stray hairs from Loki’s faces with a pleased rumble of his own. “That’s something at least. I wasn’t sure, given Thor had no clue what your safe words are and I don’t speak... whatever you did last night.”

“Allspeak wasn’t functioning?” Loki finally draws back and fusses with his tunic. It doesn’t quite fit anymore after the Grandmaster’s insistence on weight loss, but it’s still one of his favorites. Frigga had made it for him shortly after he’d reached his full size. He doesn’t comment on safe words. Loki hasn’t had one in centuries, not since he’d realized what it really meant to hide his designation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s not your fault.” Banner repeats, seemingly one of his favorite phrases. “We do need to talk, but is there anything urgent you need while coming back up?”

“No. No. I, I’m sorry to have drawn you away from... whatever you were doing.” Loki traces the trios of braids on either side of his head. He doesn’t remember receiving them, but he’s pleased to note that they seem fairly intact. Most submissives enjoy being preened by their partners and Loki is certainly no exception. Grandmaster’s inclination for elegant knife strokes had settled Loki’s need for belonging, but Loki finds that he vastly prefers being decorated rather than becoming the decoration. “I wasn’t... I wasn’t too difficult was I?”

Grandmaster was always so disappointed by Loki’s distrust.

“You were very good.” The words seem like empty platitudes, but there’s a force Banner puts behind him that Loki believes. “I’ve never known a sub to go down so quickly.”

“Mo—Frigga always said it’s because I’m a seidmadr. Our natures run deep and my seidr is stronger than most.” Loki runs his fingers again over the tight braids to ground himself. “You said you wanted to talk without Thor.”

Banner nods, watching him intently. The mortal is such a confusing mix of confidence and insecurity. Normally Loki finds it amusing, now it’s worrying. He finally sighs and says, “Thor said on Asgard its the duty of the family head to arrange a contract on behalf of their subs.”

The fear seizes Loki sudden and thorough. He was a submissive prince. It had always been a given that his contract would be sold away to strengthen Asgard’s political power, but he’d hoped to maintain the illusion of being a switch while he remained Thor’s heir. Being matched with one of Midgard’s Avengers was a good choice on Thor’s behalf. Midgard wouldn’t be happy to see Loki, but if he was married to a mortal that could be trusted to manage him it would strengthen their relations twofold. It was politically sound and Loki would have suggested it himself if he’d been thinking about it.

That doesn’t make the feeling of being sold away easier to stomach.

“My apologies.” Loki’s words are tasteless despite his best effort to infuse them with the seductive flavor of a submissive to their new dominant. “I didn’t realize Thor had promised me. If you give me the chance I’ll—”

“Shh, wait no. You misunderstand.” Banner lunges forward and surprises them both by clasping the back of Loki’s neck protectively. “He offered your contract to me, but I haven’t taken it yet. I wanted to talk to you, first.”

“Talk to me? But I’m a submissive.” Loki’s fingers itch to hold one of his daggers, but he’s level headed enough to realize that stabbing isn’t the answer in this case. The issue lies in the fact that neither are his words. Loki doesn’t get to have an answer to this issue. If Thor has decided that Loki’s the price Asgard must pay for Midgard’s favor then he’s more than willing to be Asgard’s sacrifice. “I... I would be honored to accept your care.”

“I think we both know that’s not quite the case.” Banner’s chuckle is rueful. “That’s why I wanted to talk. On Earth, um, Midgard subs are in control of their own contracts. They, we... there’s a lot of talk before we go into a relationship. We don’t just purchase a sub from their family.”

“I come with a dowry.” Is all that Loki can think to respond with. It’s inane and maybe not even true. “Or. I... I was supposed to.”

“That wasn’t the point I was trying to make.” There’s a soft chiding to Banner’s tone, but it isn’t truly a rebuke. It doesn’t make Loki’s stomach twist with unease. “I don’t care what you come with if it’s unwilling. I know you don’t like the other guy much.”

“You aren’t overly fond of me.” Loki accuses because he doesn’t know what else to say. “I’m sure I’m not your first choice.”

Banner eyes him, quite obviously trying to determine what sort of answer Loki can handle. He shrugs and turns his gaze to the door, giving Loki the space he needs without demanding Loki’s gratitude. “Well. There are a few reasons. After last night, I don’t trust Thor to do the proper vetting of anyone else he might pick is at the top of the list. For another, I know I’m willing to release you from our contract if you found a different dom you prefer.”

“That sounds dangerously close to pity.” Loki’s snarl is instinctual, as is pulling his knife from the air. He doesn’t stab though. “What do you get out of it?”

“It was two years, Loki. I might not be a sub, but Hulk is and he was that... alien’s plaything for two years.” Banner curls up around his knees, starting down at his feet. “I don’t remember much but I’ve got.... phantom feelings? Sometimes something will happen and I just remember how Hulk felt. We were lucky to have Angry—er Val. I don’t think you had anything like that while you were there and I... mmm, I’m not good at guiding a scene without getting emotionally involved.”

Loki mimics Banner’s position, resting his cheek on one arm and studies the mortal. He’s going to have to pledge himself to someone soon for Asgard’s sake. There could be worse contracts, Loki reminds himself and turns his intention inward to prod at the lazy satisfaction left over after a good scene. His seidr is particularly pleased, running thick through his veins with happy swirls despite the distinct lack of seidr in the air. And Banner is _mortal_. They would spend a hundred years together at most and then Loki’s free to spend the rest of his days as an eccentric widow. 

He fingers a braid, ignoring the way his chest warms at the symbol of belonging, as he debates his reply. “I thought your scholars tended towards dispassionate.”

“If only that were true.” Banner gives a smile that makes Loki feel his statement was definitely seen as the olive branch it was. “I get attached quickly. A trait my alter ego shares.”

“Thor must have said something truly terrible if you’re considering taking me as your charge.”

“Hmm. He’s concerned for you, even if he’s absolutely clueless on how to handle your designation.” Banner shrugs and hesitantly nudges Loki’s ankle with his toes. “But like I said, Hulk was a sub on Sakaar. He doesn’t like the idea of you jumping straight into a contract after whatever that madman did to you, and to be honest neither do I. Can’t I just be a decent person?”

“It’s been my experience that there are very few of those.” Loki sighs and drops his forehead to his knees. “But very well. I hardly have other options. As it was proven yesterday, Thor is hopeless as a dominant. I would be honored to be accepted into your care.”

“And I would be honored to accept your trust.” Banner replies. They’re not the traditional words, but they’re soothing regardless. Loki is skilled at sensing lies and Banner appears more sincere than most. The mortal believes what he’s saying at least.

Loki shuts his eyes and does his best to sink back intro into the satisfaction beneath his skin. “Congratulations, Dr. Banner. You’re now the proud owner of Asgard’s most troublesome prince.”

“Congrats on the promotion.” Banner shoots back and nudges Loki’s foot again. “Shame that Thor had to abdicate the position.”

For a moment, Loki is too shocked to respond but then he’s curled in on himself laughing until he cries.


	3. Chapter 3

As far as indicators of enthusiastic consent go, tears aren’t usually one of them. 

Loki, Bruce’s sub apparently, settles eventually and stands with a languid stretch. He swipes at his the test tracks without acknowledging them. His clothes seem to hang off his lean frame, but somehow they suit him better than anything Bruce could remember him wearing on Sakaar. With a small hum, Loki makes his way over to the bar and shuffles the bottles around. “So, these discussions they hold on Midgard. How are they held?” 

“Ah. Well, usually there’s a good deal of dating or courting beforehand to make sure everyone involved is compatible. And then when it comes time to discuss everything, we’d go somewhere neutral in order to discuss details.” Bruce lets himself be beckoned over. This is probably the most time he's spent in Loki’s presence since the Helicarrier. Leaning against the bar he watches Loki expertly mix cocktails and takes the one he’s offered. “This is ‘mortal’ strength, right? Alcohol poisoning tends to bring out the other guy and he’s not a fun drunk.”

There’s a coy smile to Loki’s lips as he lifts his own drink. “I guessed at the content levels, but I believe so. Small sips, Dr. Banner. Now, these details. I assume they’re the standard? How each family benefits, obscure loopholes that allow the sub to escape what their birth family would consider to be less than ideal, the dowry specifics?”

“What?” Bruce inhales his fruity drink and hits at his chest with his fist to try and avoid dry drowning. “No. That’s, no.”

“Hmm.” Loki tips his head in consideration, dark hair spilling over his shoulder in response. There’s a dark amusement in his eyes so Bruce thinks that it was said that way deliberately. At the very least, it had been timed on purpose. “Well that is something.”

“Our contracts are between individuals. There are outs, but they’re for both parties, all parties. Not everyone is exclusive but they’re not loopholes. it’s hard limits and such.” Bruce scrubs a weary hand over his face. “I don’t even think anyone on Earth’s had a dowry since the industrial revolution. You’re not seriously telling me that the advanced race of Asgard doesn’t recognize sub rights.” 

“I live to please my dominant.” Loki’s amused reply is saccharin sweet and all too clearly bait. “What would you rather hear, my love?” 

“I hope you know that my opinion of you guys has dropped like, seven notches for this.” Bruce informs Loki, pointing his glass at the god. “Seriously. That’s not going to fly on Earth. We’re real big on equal rights,” at Loki’s raised eyebrow, he amends, “most of us. Everyone publicly.”

“Quaint. Well then, now that we’ve established you want no part in an Aesir contract,” and Bruce startles at the realization that the conversation thus far has been a test to learn Bruce’s opinion on said contract, “I suppose all that’s left is for you to convince me of the virtues of said sub rights.” 

“You can just ask for my opinion on things.” Bruce says. “It makes conversation much easier.” 

“Now where’s the fun in that, Doctor?” Loki throws back the rest of his drink. “It’s hard to win when you play with your cards facing out.” 

“Is everything a game?” 

“A gamble.” Loki corrects. “I’m sure you’ve come to realize I’ve few allies, my brother primarily and his aid is rather hit or miss.”

“You don’t think we’re allies?” Bruce presses into Loki’s space. It’s mostly to see what he’ll do. Stab is a good guess, but he’s also noticed that Loki’s violence tends to scale up or down according to offense and the offending party’s capabilities. “I’m not going to take you under contract if you can’t trust me.”

There’s a defensive flicker of a knife that vanishes almost immediately. Loki sighs, not giving any indication that he thought of moving from his comfortable lounge against the countertop. His expression is carefully blank before fading to something softer. “Trust isn’t in my nature, Doctor. However, if you seek reassurance, I am fairly confident you mean me no deliberate harm. You had ample opportunity, both while I was down and while I was sleeping to injure my person. I am thus far unharmed and untouched, which is more than I can say for the various dominants I’ve sought out over the past decade. I need to go down as much as you need to put someone down and a match between us is... more ideal than my brother and another mortal.”

“That’s a low bar you’ve set for me.” Bruce sets down his drink. 

“Yes, well, I am on a ship that consists entirely of people who resent me for destroying their homeland—yourself not excluded.” Loki smiles seem to be small; minute twitches of his lips combined with subtle crinkling at his eyes as his high cheekbones almost seem rounder. “Besides, there are few among the Aesir who would deign to touch me even before I was sullied by The Grandmaster. Truly, if I wish to be a bride then you are practically my only choice.”

“We’re having a wedding now?” Despite himself, Bruce is amused. He tucks his hands under his armpits as he lets Loki steer the conversation as he wishes. “I’m not sure I look good in a suit.”

“Don’t you wish to ravish me?” Loki leans in closer with a seductive expression before brushing past, the bony edge of his hip catching against Bruce’s. “In truth, I think that a public hand fasting would do the Aesir good. They trust you, or your other form and will be more at ease once I’m trapped within a formal contract. Especially with a mortal. Your lack of political status on Midgard is of no consequence as our marriage will allow them to feel we have secured an alliance if the King’s brother is bound in service to a mortal hero without needing to pander to your courts. And...” here Loki hesitates, “the people need a win. Under Odin’s rule even when we were at peace there was always risk of war. Once I started easing the reins of Asgard’s control over the more distant territories they started to turn to arts, but this is a hard blow to recover from. Hand fastings are symbolic, the start of a new life. It could only bolster their spirits.” 

“Here I just thought you wanted another chance for them to worship you.” Bruce teases even as he turns the reasoning over in his head. They’re all good points, as are the ones that Thor had made in favor of such a contract the night before. 

It gets him, not a wider smile per say but definitely a more genuine one. “Well, there is always that too.”

“Thor said the people don’t know your true designation.” Bruce says. “Wouldn’t revealing yourself to be a sub kinda disrupt things?”

“If there is an Aesir alive who sees me as anything than a submissive then I will eat my own helm.” Loki scowls lightly. “Knowing the Prince’s official designation and knowing his designation are two separate things. Odin claimed me a switch but most of the planet was well aware that I am merely masquerading until Thor produces an heir and I’m removed from the line of succession. Stepping into the role of a noble submissive won’t be pleasant, but I suspect it would actually make the people far more content. It’s one thing when the spare is a submissive if he has no chance of succession but they grow nervous when there’s a chance he could inherit.” 

“If you’d been older would they have had the same objection?” It was a thoughtless question and it clearly stung. 

Loki looks away, waving one hand absently. “Well, yes. They likely wouldn’t have kept up even the pretense of allowing me in the line of succession. My nature is too transient for the throne, even ignoring the fact that it takes only a particularly careless child to put me under.”

“Is that why you wanted to rule?” 

“That, Doctor, is my life’s greatest irony.” Loki’s expression twists painfully and he seems to curl in on himself. His voice drops to a harsh snarl. “I despise the blunt machinations that come with a throne. Each time I have tried to take one it was because I saw no other option. Thor desired the throne only so he might make war on the realms and then he refused to take up his responsibility and Odin had the damnable habit of sleeping every time he was forced to confront inconvenience. Midgard’s fall to invasion is inevitable thanks to the neglect of Bor’s line, I meant to ease your transition into the intergalactic battlefield.”

“Okay, I don’t know about the rest but I’m pretty sure you weren’t trying to take over the Earth.” Bruce taps his fingers against his thigh as he debates his next move. Taking a risk, he reaches out and runs his hand over Loki’s shoulder gently. “I know lies are kind of your thing but—“

“Who told you that?” The dagger is in Loki’s hand, but he doesn’t make to use it. The rasp in his voice is both desperate and dangerous. “Thor?” 

“We haven’t talked about it. I just, it was kind of obvious. I don’t know what your real play was but diva is more Tony and Thor’s thing I think.” Bruce doesn’t try to take the dagger, but he does nudge Loki back over to the bed. This is probably a conversation they need to have, but not while Loki is still feeling so vulnerable from such a deep drop. “Look, from what I’ve seen you’re more of a plans behind plans behind plans guy. I don’t think I’m the couple weeks we been on The Statesmen that I’ve ever heard you say what you actually meant. It’s, well it’s kind of a big deal still, but we can sort it out later.”

Loki’s hand grips his dagger so tight his knuckles turn as bloodless as his lips. He doesn’t look Bruce in the eyes, turning his glare on his lap. “I’d think you’d have more care for the regicidal tendencies of your potential life partner.”

And yikes. Yeah, Bruce is trying really hard to not to think about that because if he thinks about it then he’s going to get real anxious and his fight, flight, freeze response isn’t his best friend. He pushes onto the bed next to Loki and ignores the threat of stabbing as he presses against the god’s side. 

“So I’m not going to say we don’t need to discuss this whole... flip flop thing you seem to have going on, but I don’t think this is the best time.” Bruce takes a chance and takes Loki’s dagger hand in his. “How are we doing on the varies from moment to moment scale?” 

For a moment Bruce thinks he is actually going to get stabbed and they’re going to have to deal with Hulk punching holes in very delicate space ship walls, but then the dagger disappears. Loki’s knuckles are covered in tiny scars and Bruce brushes his thumb over them as he gently manipulates each joint. 

After another long moment Loki rests his head on Bruce’s shoulder and curls close. “Disinclined to clean up blood.”

“Glad to hear it. We can table that conversation for later then because I’m going to be honest, I’ve never seen a handfasting.” Bruce works through every bone in Loki’s palm before moving to the next one. “Is there any chance I can get out of all this leather? Because I’m going to be honest, I’m really not the rock start type.”

“Hmm. I’ll see what can be done about your wardrobe. You’ll have to rob a grave though, any chance your ancestors were buried with a deadly weapon?”

Bruce chokes on his startled laughter. “Not sure, to be honest. I think I had a great aunt or something who died of cancer.”

“Truly, you mortals are baffling. How are you to battle in Ragnarok if you’re not buried with your finest weapons?” 

“See, I just fought in Ragnarok so I think I’m offended.” Bruce blinks, pushing aside the very visceral feeling of how is this my life now. Equally strong is the weird desire to kiss the back of Loki’s knuckles. “We don’t have to do this though, you know that right? From the sound of it you’d be giving up a lot.”

Loki hums quietly in response, his long fingers turn to link with Bruce’s. “I’ve spent a thousand years living a life that belongs to someone else and every time I think I have a grasp on the deception, Odin has sprung another truth upon me. Perhaps I’m simply tired of trying to do things his way.” 

“No offense, but your dad sounds like a piece of work.” 

“Odin pulled me off a battlefield or a sacrificial rock to make use of me as a peace treaty with my birth species. You’ll forgive me if I don’t claim familial ties.” 

Bruce blinks as he tries to process that. “For a guy who called himself Allfather, he seems to have been good to what, one of his kids?” 

“He banished Thor to Midgard and failed to mention that stripping him of his powers would make Thor mortal and so I accidentally killed him.” The recitation is dry but Bruce has the distinct impression that Loki is eager to discuss Odin’s flaws with someone who wouldn’t defend them. 

“That’s pretty messed up.” Bruce agrees because he’s not sure what else to say. “Thor didn’t mention he died.” 

“It was barely a death.” Loki snorts. “A backhand by the destroyer shouldn’t have knocked him off his feet. I was trying to distract him.” 

“I think it’s important for me to tell you most of us don’t come back after dying.” Bruce twists slightly to look down at Loki. “In fact I would greatly appreciate not getting backhanded by something called the destroyer.” 

“Yes, yes.” Loki reaches up and pats Bruce’s forehead like he’s an amusing pet. “You mortals are very delicate. It’s why I like you. This year, the next, a hundred. Your lives are over in a heartbeat. Everything is all so new to you and it’s never enough.”

“Thanks, I think.” Bruce finds his hand absently making its way to Loki’s hair once more. “I didn’t realize you’d been to Earth before.”

“Mm. Quite often actually. You probably shouldn’t do that if you want me to stay up.” Loki stretches with an absent hum. “I stopped visiting around the Great War. Figured I’d give you a few centuries to quit concentrating on killing each other before I came back.”

“So are the stories we have about you actually based on you?” Bruce asks, mostly because Thor has never given him a straight answer. 

“Perhaps. Not mine specifically. I wasn’t even born until um...” Loki pulls away, Bruce might almost say reluctantly, to count on his fingers. “900 or so? Thor and his friends were visiting Midgard under supervision around then. He claims they only told tales of my exploits as a warrior, though what tales those might be given that I was barely toddling around the nursery, I have no clue. In truth I think most of them come from Sif. She’s always disliked me.”

“Enough to convince a small country that you were into bestiality?” Bruce asks, very afraid of the answer. 

Loki’s hum is more amused this time. “Well, she was only six-seven hundred years old and is of extremely feeble mind even now.”

“You had turned her hair black, Loki.” Thor startles Bruce by appearing in the doorway. 

Loki doesn’t so much as flinch, and instead stretches himself out across Bruce’s lap with a challenging lift of his chin. “If she didn’t want hair as dark as mine she shouldn’t have mocked a baby seidrmadr.”

“Baby—maybe the initial cast aye.” Thor actually growls and points an accusing finger at his brother. “What are you doing on Banner’s lap? I know not what games you played under the Grandmaster’s watch but I’m the head of the family and I’ll see you behave.”

It’s only because Loki’s lounging across Bruce’s lap that he can feel Loki’s flinch at the Grandmaster’s name. For the first time he wishes he had more than the impression of Hulk’s sharp fear undercut with anger. Unable to do much else, Bruce rests a protective hand on Loki’s back and ignores the startled glance he gets from the sub. “It’s aftercare, Thor. You asked me to take on his contract.”

“You refused.” Thor accuses.

Loki‘s hand fists the fabric at the knee of Bruce’s borrowed leather pants. He does a good job of hiding his reaction, but being rejected isn’t a good feeling for anyone. That has to go double for someone so recently out of sub space. 

Bruce strokes over Loki’s shoulder, encouraging the sub to relax further into the charade he’d started at Thor’s entrance. Whatever the purpose, his suspicion is to annoy Thor, Bruce is still unhappy enough with Asgard’s new king to indulge it. “I said I wasn’t going to make a decision while Loki was under. He’s up now, and I’m willing to discuss terms.”

“Very well.” Thor narrows a glare down at Bruce. “Let us discuss.”


End file.
